


Model Ships and Wide Hips

by mauther



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-23 03:11:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3752242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mauther/pseuds/mauther
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short ficlets in honor of a very rare pair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Morning-grade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hero_of_derp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hero_of_derp/gifts).



Rung was always the first one to boot up every morning on the Lost Light. For some reason as he’d been racking up the vorns, he’d needed less and less time to recharge. He didn’t mind it really - more time to fill out charts and paperwork that he had little chance of looking over during the more “eventful” cycles when everybot else was awake. This morning, though, Rung was really wishing he could have lain in his berth a while longer - he was feeling a bit irritated and restless. His systems seemed to be running just fine, but maybe it was that he hadn’t had any -

“Morning-grade, Rung?” Drift wandered in with two small mugs and a slight smile on his face, arms outstretched to keep the steam from the drinks out of his optics.

So, maybe Rung was wrong about being the first one up, after all. Drift seemed pretty perky for it being 0600 cycles.

“Hrmmmgh,” Rung replied, glancing grumpily at the mugs and holding a servo out to take one. “Thanks.”

As soon as it was in his grasp, he began sipping at it, apparently accustomed to the heat and tang of the bitter energon. It tasted slightly different than usual, but of course Drift couldn’t have known his exact preferences. Any kind of morning-grade was better than no morning-grade, anyway.

Drift sat down on the patient’s berth across from the desk where Rung sat, watching him nurse his drink. “You don’t seem like you’re all the way online this morning,” Drift said, taking a sip of his own drink. “Something bothering you?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” Rung set his mug down and flipped through some papers. Whirl’s papers, to be exact. He flipped the file closed before Drift could catch an eyeful of any of his notes. “I’d let you know, but, confidentiality.”

Drift nodded, but he didn’t quite believe him. Scooting forward a little, he stretched an arm out and toyed with Rung’s audials for a moment. “Mmkay, but still, let me know.”

Rung grumbled again and slouched down a little in his chair, enjoying the touch but not wanting to show it. Maybe if he ignored him then he’d go away. Not that he really wanted him to go, but who would want to put up with an irritable old bot like him at this cycle?

Drift seemed to read his thoughts, getting up and maneuvering his way behind Rung’s chair. He rested his servos on Rung’s shoulders, feeling him tense up a little. “Relax, amica,” he said, gently massaging and pressing his digits between the plating. “It’s alright. Just drink your energon, I’ll leave you be for a little while.”

One last squeeze and a kiss to the top of Rung’s head, and then Drift picked up his energon again and turned to leave. Rung caught his servo before he left, though, and pulled him back a little.

“How are you, though, Drift?” Rung asked, his tone and facial expression softening a little. “Any nightmares last night…?”

Drift smiled and shook his head, but Rung could tell he was lying. “Like you said, nothing out of the ordinary.”

They both held their gaze for a moment before Drift broke away. Rung let him go, knowing it was no use to pry. He took another sip of the morning-grade, wondering what it must have been this time. Not that it mattered, though - it all had the same effect on Drift. That must have been why he was awake so early.

“Love you, amica,” Rung said into his mug, just loud enough for Drift to hear him.

Drift was already out the door, though, and gave no sign of having heard. However, there was a warm smile that ghosted across his face as he wandered down the hall.

“Love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eeek my first TF fanfic ever and my first fanfic in a long long time, hope you enjoyed it! i know it's a bit of a rare pair, but i couldn't help but humor a friend.


	2. Public Transit

Given that mechs came in all shapes and sizes, the trains on Cybertron were generally big enough to accommodate frames even up to Fort Max’s size. That didn’t mean that it wouldn’t be uncomfortable - public transport never claimed to be anything luxurious. Yes, there were seats, but they only worked for smaller models, and there were magnetized bars and looped straps placed here and there for the lucky bot to grab hold of. Thankfully, Rung had managed to snag one of those seats, and Drift, one of those straps.

“Thank you for coming with me,” Rung said, arching his neck to look up at Drift. “You really didn’t have to.”

“Just because I have wheels doesn’t mean I have to use them all the time.”

Drift glanced out the window to check their stop, then examined the train system map above the sliding doors. To be honest, this was the second time in his entire life he’d ever been on public transit, and it made him a little nervous. The only other time, he had been using it to evade pursuers and blend in with the crowd. It was nice to be able to ride the train in a less stressful situation, but he still didn’t quite trust himself to know where he was going.

Rung, on the other hand, was all too familiar with the transit system. Seeing as his alt mode was practically useless, he had no other choice if he wanted to travel. The wheel on his back was really just for show - the Functionists had forced him to wear it despite his distaste for embellishment.

Rung noticed Drift’s uneasiness and opened his mouth to speak, but was suddenly jerked sideways into another bot as the train went around a sharp corner.

“My apologies,” Rung said to the other passenger. Repositioning himself in the seat, he turned back to Drift and attempted to speak up a second time. “Drift, are you -”

“Oof!”

They rounded another corner in quick succession, and Drift was the one who’d been tossed around this time. He’d lost his grip on the overhead strap and fell heavily in Rung’s direction. He managed to catch himself bent over Rung with one servo on the wall and the other on Rung’s shoulder, but now he was severely encroaching on his amica’s personal space, his face inches from Rung’s own.

A klik’s worth of tension passed between the two of them as Drift hovered there - both of them wanted to kiss each other, and both of them knew what the other was thinking. Drift leaned down a little bit more, Rung leaned forward, their lips so close to meeting, and then...

…the train lurched forward again, and Drift was inexorably tugged backward into his original position, steadying himself among the jostling of the other mechs riding the train.

Suddenly Drift found that he could no longer make eye contact with Rung. He may have recovered his balance, but definitely not his composure. To distract himself, he focused on the scratches on his pedes and the shaking of the train, acutely aware of the fact that Rung was still watching him, his gaze unbroken.

Rung himself had never really had a problem with awkwardness - it was always about the perspective one took, he said. His level-headed, rational perpsective was often a blessing, especially in times like these. It meant he had the pleasure to witness the light blush that crept across Drift’s faceplates as the poor thing stared at the floor. He was glad that Drift was at least feeling a different kind of discomfort than before, though. Decentralized anxiety was difficult to work with, but embarrassment, yes, Rung could handle that any day. 

Fortunately, Rung’s level-headedness kept him on task, and he noticed another vital piece of information before he got too caught up in his thoughts.

“This is our stop.”

Drift jerked his head up, instantly returning his focus to his surroundings. “Ah, yes, must not have been paying attention. Let’s -”

Rung was way ahead of him, getting out of his seat and starting to weave his way through the crowded train. As Rung brushed past him, he stretched up on tip-toe and pressed a firm but quick kiss on Drift's startled lips, then promptly kept moving on. 

It took Drift a moment to realize what had even happened, and by then Rung had grabbed his servo and pulled him out the doors and onto the platform. Rung stopped there, though, watching Drift intently, and mysteriously began to chuckle. The train moved on past them. Drift had absolutely no idea what was going on.

“Drift?" Rung said, squeezing his servo lightly. "Drift, your mouth is open. You're staring.”

Startled for the third time in mere kliks, Drift snapped his mouth shut, the tint on his cheeks blossoming into a full blush. The most he could muster in response was a half-hearted growl as he tugged his servo away from Rung’s, and even then, it was more of a whine than a growl. He really, really wished he had more control over himself, better composure - he was third in command on the Lost Light, and he even used to be a decepticon, for primus' sake. Where had his discipline gone?

Honestly what he really wanted was to get back at the mech, but he knew Rung was untouchable, unflappable, impenetrable. Glaring sideways at him, Drift muttered something under his breath.

Rung was pleased, even though he couldn't make out what Drift had said. Like he thought, better frustrated than anxious.

“Sorry sweetspark, I didn’t hear you,” Rung said, still chuckling. “What was that?”

Working very hard not to growl again, Drift pulled himself together and slipped on a false smile. Rung had won this round, but at least Drift could save face.

“Oh, nothing, nothing. I just  _hate_ public transit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by a post by user promptsfordays on tumblr, but it kind of went in a different direction than intended. not a bad thing, though ;)


	3. With a Little Help from My Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a quick note - this drabble is in a pseudo-humanformers AU that squids and dusty and I have been working on. this particular scenario was inspired by a post by user promptsfordays on tumblr. enjoy!

The lights in the concert hall dimmed as the hype music rose in volume, and finally the band members strutted out on stage. Drift was practically jumping up and down – he and Wing had been listening to their albums obsessively in the weeks leading up to the concert, and now the moment had come.

Rung stood next to Drift in the crowd, slightly more reserved, although he did enjoy the music as well. Alt-cog stuff wasn’t normally his jam, but he had to admit that Drift had great musical taste, great enough that he could persuade even Rung that “the synth vibe in the bridge is fan-fragging-TASTIC!”

Holding onto Drift’s arm, Rung arched his neck for a better view of the keyboards, wishing he could watch the musician’s servos as they danced across the keys. Little things like that kept him calm in the midst of such large and raucous crowds.

After the first number was done and the lead singer was addressing the cheering crowd, Drift looked down at Rung and slung his arm around the shorter mech’s shoulders. “Oi, can you see alright down there?” he teased.

“Well, actually,” Rung said, “…not really. But it can’t be helped.”

Drift tipped his head thoughtfully for a moment, then grinned. “Here, come stand in front of me.”

“What good is that going to – a-ah!”

As soon as Rung had moved, Drift ducked down and stuck his head between Rung’s legs, fluidly hoisting him up onto his shoulders and above the crowd. Rung clutched frantically at Drift’s helm, caught completely off guard, but somehow managed not to get tossed off.

Once he was settled, he loosened his grip and leaned forward, trying to look Drift in the optics. “You really should have warned me!”

“That’d be no fun,” said Drift, grinning up at his botfriend. “Now shh, the next song’s starting!”

Rung did as requested, albeit grumpily. He distracted himself by watching the keyboard like he’d wanted to do before, grateful that he honestly did have a much better view from this height.

After a while, he leaned down until his mouth was next to Drift’s audial, so that the other mech could actually hear him through all the music and screaming. “Thanks, sweetspark.”

Drift’s only response was to laugh and jump up and down slightly, jostling Rung into another helm-clinging fright. Rung couldn’t really get angry at him, though – he was just too cute, his excitement spilling over and quickly pulling Rung back into the music.

They stayed like that for the whole concert, and Drift only let him down once they had to get back on public transit to get home. _Stupid adorable botfriend._


End file.
